Phantom Wings
by Erika the Phantomess
Summary: Max and the flock are doing just fine. But when Max is pulled into 1881 Paris, France, she must learn to trust the other outsider. Phantom of the Opera/Maximum Ride crossover - Max/Erik or Max/Fang, I'm not sure yet.
1. Arrival

Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride, or Phantom of the Opera. Although I just _might_ own Erik. You never know…

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Max flew next to Angel and Iggy(who was carrying Total), under Fang, and above Nudge. They were flying away from the scene of their last fight, with those _awful_ Flyboys. Max smiled to herself and looked up at Fang. Fang was staring at her, obviously thinking about their relationship. Max looked foreword again.

30 Minutes and 200 Miles Later

"Fang!" Nudge yelled in alarm. Fang looked down in time to see Max start to fall. A moment later, all five of them were diving after Max. Fang and Iggy managed to catch her and lay her down on a rock.

"Jeez, she's awfully light," Iggy said, very concerned.

"She's almost . . . transparent!" Nudge said. Indeed, it appeared Max was fading away. Angel looked thoroughly confused. "Her thoughts are clear, but she sounds . . . weird, like she's translating to . . . French? But slowly."

"Did the scientists program it into her?" Iggy asked.

Fang snorted. "_Why_ would they program _French_ into her?"

"Where'd she go?!" Nudge yelled.

Somewhere else . . . Some_time_ else.

Max woke with a start. _Where am I?_


	2. Joining the Opera

I'm sorry- this chapter is under construction. Hugs, Cookies, and a Fang to my wonderful Beta, I-Know-Her-In-Real-Life-And-Won't-Put-Her-Name-On-The-Internet. She typed up this chapter. Enjoy your Fang!

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Max knew not to stand up after her fall - just in case she was hurt. "Where am I?" she thought out loud.

She didn't expect an answer, and she didn't get one, but she felt as if someone was watching her.

"Hello?" she yelled. Her only answer was an echo. Suddenly, a voice, a Voice she couldn't tell if it was an adult, child, man, or woman, spoke out of the darkness. "This way!" She followed without thinking, and the Voice led her to a flight of stairs, and up to a stage. She looked around. No one. Max walked to the middle of the stage. She had always secretly wanted to be a singer. She started to sing……………….

Up in the Rigging

Erik blinked and looked up at the girl. He had led her here so she could find her way out, but now.....

Suddenly, Monsieur Andre & Firman walked onto the stage. The girl looked around, as if trying (and failing) to find a place to hide. "Mademoiselle!" Firman cried.

"Oh, um. Hello," she replied.

"You sing very well. What is your name?"

"Max." She looked around, clearly looking for an exit

"What song was that, Max?"

"It's not named." Erik pitied this girl, she obviously felt trapped.

"Who wrote it?"

"I did." Erik blinked. This girl, Max, he reminded himself, seemed too tough to write a song like that!

"Well then Max, would you like to join our chorus?" She seemed startled.

"Sure?"

"Wonderful!"

As the managers showed Max to the ballet dormitories and the ballerinas helped her get settled, Erik realized what was missing from Max's singing. Soul. With the right teacher, she could be great...

Max was surprised when she was given her own dressing room, but whenever she asked, she would get replies of 'The ghost' this & 'Le Fantome' that. It was convenient, however to be able to let her wings out. Her broken wing was still healing, though. She had felt so cramped, crowded, in the ballet dormitories.

She wished she could fly, fly away and find the flock. Find Fang.

1 week later

Max stormed into her room and hissed. "That fat cow.... that mean fat cow! I hate you Carlotta!" Abruptly, Max put her head down on the table. "No, she's right. I can't sing - I never could. I should just leave. It's not like I'm ever going to hear the Angel of Music. I'm just not good enough." She suddenly sat up. A voice, a beautiful voice, was singing softly. It reminded her dimly of an Eraser's voice - but more beautiful. Yet it remained, for all its beauty, a man's voice. Max sat up, listening, concentrating. There doesn't seem to be a threat.

"Who are you?" Max asked, more curious than wary.

"Who do you think I am?"

Max smiled weakly. " Le Ange du Musique?"

"Yes," The Voice said.

"Why are you here?"

"Your voice has potential. I could teach you to sing, if you want.

Max smiled. "I do. Teach me how to sing" And so it began......... (A/N: me likes me my dots....)..........

Back in 2009. In a cave in Death Valley

"Fang?" Nudge sounded worried. Fang leaped up, instantly awake.

"What?"

"You're fading too..." Fang look at himself.

"No I'm not, you are." Angel looked scared.

Fang looked around at the building he stood in front of. The Paris Opera? He looked at a passing man.

"Pardon Monsieur, where am I?"

"You're in Paris, France."

Fang screamed inwardly. "Merci. Also, what year?"

"What are you, thick or something? It's 1881!"

"Oh."

The man walked off, muttering about crazy people.


End file.
